


What You Feel

by javajunkie



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: F/M, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-23 12:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/javajunkie/pseuds/javajunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of one-shots featuring Beca and Jesse both during the course of the movie and after their kiss at the Lincoln Center.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beer Pong Wizard

**Author's Note:**

> So excited to share this story over here! Hope you enjoy!

She doesn't want to be at the party. She hates it with every fiber of her being, yet she stands at the side of the room with Amy, watching Chloe dance with some fraternity guy. He said he was a Delta or maybe it was a Sig. None of it really mattered to Beca as he prattled it off with a little too much nonchalance for her liking, so she'd only been partially listening, taking in the hot mess of the party surrounding them as he talked.

Normally she would avoid something like a fraternity party with every maneuver she knew, but Chloe and Aubrey had insisted that it was part of the Barden Bella's bonding that they go together. Beca thought it was a load of crap then and continues thinking that as she slowly drains her beer.

"She's working him like a pole," Amy says, cocking her head to the side as Chloe drops down the length of her guy and then snakes back up.

"Yeah," Beca says, taking a sip of her drink. "She sure is."

"I can't decide if that's awesome or not."

"I'd go more along the lines of disturbing," Beca says. "But, hey, what do I know?"

"I need to find myself some man meat," Amy says casually, smacking her lips together as she surveys the crowd. "Pickings are slim here. A bunch of boys - I need a man."

Beca snorts. "I'm sure you do."

"How about you?"

Beca laughs – the sound more akin to a bark than a laugh – and says, "This is not my scene."

"No?"

"About as far as you can get from it," Beca says. "I'm here as a Bella hostage and nothing more."

Amy spots someone over by the keg and grins wide. Rocking on her heels she looked over at Beca and says, "I think that's about to change."

"Huh?"

Amy knocks her elbow into hers and points toward Jesse who is attempting to fill his cup with beer. He doesn't seem to know how to work the nozzle, though, and he stands there with an empty cup, staring at the keg in confusion.

"You're wrong," Beca says, shaking her head. "I've said it once and I'll say it again. I have zero interest in Jesse."

"Okay, you may have been able to convince me before the riff-off but afterwards, no way. You had some off the charts sexual chemistry. I half expected you guys to go at it right there."

"Ew, that's disgusting," Beca says, making a face. "Besides, there was mold in that pool."

Amy laughs. "So it's the pool that turns you off, not Jesse? I knew it!"

"Whoah, way to twist my words," Beca says, rubbing the back of her neck uncomfortably. "I just mean…"

She trails off when she notices Jesse still trying to fill his cup. A line has formed and no one even attempts to help him. She notices they're getting antsy.

"You have got to be kidding me," Beca says. "Okay, do not read into what I am about to do."

"What are you going to do?"

"Save Jesse from being beaten up by beer-deprived meatheads. I'll be right back."

Beca walks over to Jesse and behind her Amy yells, "Definitely reading into this!"

Beca almost has to laugh at the look of determination on Jesse's face as he ineffectually attempts to work the nozzle. His eyes are serious, mouth screwed into a frown at the side of his face. If she didn't know any better, she'd think he was working through some Thucydides or Aristotle.

"Move over, nerd," she says, taking the cup from his hand. He glances over at her, and she can tell he's embarrassed because he doesn't utter a single quip.

"You need to pump the keg first," she instructs. "Then, you fill your cup."

Jesse takes the full cup from her and says, "I'd try to be all manly and I say that I knew that but…"

"But you didn't and created a fifteen person line for beer?" she finishes.

"That's inaccurate," he answers, glancing back at the line. "It's eight – ten people tops."

"How do you not know how to use a keg?"

"I don't know. Not exactly a staple at our family holidays," he replies sarcastically.

She smirks and says, "It's a basic college skill, Jesse. You gotta get going on acquiring those."

"I will. Today will be my first lesson."

He takes a sip of his drink, eyes dancing above the cup. Right then she thinks to herself that he is too smooth for his own good.

"So, what are you doing here?" he asks.

"Just soaking up the Greek life," she answers easily. "If all goes as planned I'll end up in a Delta's bed by morning."

Jesse smirks and says, "This is a Sigma party."

"Even more reason to bed a Delt."

"Let me guess," he begins, narrowing his eyes. "This is…a forced outing by the Bellas."

"Ding ding," Beca says, raising her drink. "He gets it on the first try. How about you? Where are the rest of you Treblemakers?"

"I don't know. I'm an independent contractor tonight. Well, not if you count Benji. He's over doing magic tricks for a girl he met, but…"

"You two wandered out into the wilderness on your own? That's very brave of you."

"I like to think so. We've regular Indiana Joneses."

She stares at him blankly and he says, "Don't tell me you've never seen Indiana Jones."

"No, I've seen it," she returns. "I just wanted to see how freaked out you'd be at the prospect that I hadn't."

He laughs, shaking his head. "So, anyway, what do people do at these parties?"

"Drink and grope each other, apparently. For the record, I am only doing the first with you."

"Are you saying you won't grope with me?" Jesse asks with mock disbelief. "And here I was thinking we were friends."

She gives him a look and says, "Not a chance, buddy."

He looks at something over her shoulder and grins wide. Before she can ask what it is that caught his attention he takes a hold of her arm and says, "I know exactly what we are doing next."

"Huh? What are you…" she trails off when she sees the beer pong table. She pulls her arm from his grasp and says, "Nope. There is no way I am playing this idiotic game."

"Come on, Beca. You said we had to rack up basic college skills. Even you cannot argue that beer pong is not one of those."

She gives him a challenging look and asks, "And your point?"

"I've never played before. You've clearly never played before."

"You don't know that," she counters.

"Okay, fine, have you?"

She frowns and says, "Well, no, but that's beside the point-"

"That is very much the point," he cuts in. "Basic college skills, Beca. Your words not mine."

"I was making fun of you," she throws back. "Those words are not something to take seriously or hold me to!"

Jesse begins to laugh at that and she stares at him in confusion, mouth pressing into a frown before she snaps, "What's so funny?"

"I get it now."

"Get what?"

"You think I'll be better than you."

"Better than me? This, coming from the guy who couldn't work a keg?"

Jesse nods in acquiescence of his previous faux pas and says, "Regardless of my keg difficulties, I have remarkable hand eye coordination. You should see me play ping pong. I've been told it's a revelation."

She snorts and says, "A revelation? Really?"

"I think beer pong could be my next calling." She gives him a look and he continues. "All this time I've been searching for that one thing that would complete me. The thing that would make me whole. Maybe, just maybe, this hallowed collegiate game will-"

"If we play will you stop talking?"

His mouths pulls into that stupid wide grins of his and he says, "That is a very real possibility."

"Fine," she relents. "One game. And then I am going home because there is a fine line between Bella bonding and hazing."

He doesn't push any further and she can see he's pretty damn full of himself for getting this far. To his credit, she can't think of anyone else who could have. They wait over at the side of the table as the game finishes. Jesse's oddly quiet and she jokes, "What, are you studying their technique?"

"No, I'm preparing myself for awesomeness."

She snorts. "You're so full of it."

The game ends and they take their spots at the losing side of the table. Beca hopes it's an omen and the game goes by quickly. The floor is sticky around the table and she feels like she should have been in bed hours ago.

"You guys go first," the other side says, their words rushing into each other in a drunken slur.

"You want to start us off, all star?" she asks Jesse with a deceptively innocent look. He shakes his head and says, "Ladies first."

"Alrighty then," she says, picking up the ping pong ball. She did a few test flicks of her wrist before executing a short toss. It bounces off the table a good two feet in front of the cups and rolls off the table.

"Wow. You are really bad at this."

"Shut up."

He goes to return with some goading remark when the other team sinks the ping pong ball into one of their back cups.

"Drink up, bitches!" one of them yells, laughing uproariously as they high-five their partner.

"Well, that certainly was not directed toward me," Beca says, turning toward Jesse. "Drink up, bitch."

Jesse gives her a look before picking up the cup and draining it.

"Alright, let's see what you've got," Beca says, rubbing her hands together in feigned anticipation as he prepared to shoot. To both of their surprise, he executes a perfect toss into one of the side cups.

"Not bad," she says appreciatively, nodding her head as the other team drank.

The game continues for the next twenty or thirty minutes, Beca getting increasingly worse as Jesse continues to land throws. At one point she hits someone in the head and she turns away quickly, pointing at Jesse and saying, "He did it!"

"Alright, last cup," Jesse says, handing the ping pong ball to Beca. Both teams are down to their final cup and the pressure is surprisingly high. Beca didn't think she would care about a stupid game of beer pong, but with Jesse being halfway decent she found herself being swept up in the game. "No pressure, but our winning and losing pretty much relies on you now."

She gives him a look. "Wow, that's comforting."

"Just do your best. And, uh, you know, don't mess up."

She stares the cup down, trying to visualize her throw. Taking a deep breach, she focuses all her attention on the cup before snapping her wrist forward and releasing the ball. She holds her breath until the ball drops into the cup.

"Oh my God, I did it!" she cries out, clapping her hands together excitedly. She knows it's just a stupid game at a stupid frat party, but she'd be damned if she wasn't excited. Jesse makes some sort of whooping noise as he pumps his fist in the air. When she turns toward him he wraps his arms tightly around her waist and lifts her off the ground as he spins her around once. When she's back on solid ground she can hardly breathe.

The next team takes the place of the losing duo and Jesse tells them, "I'm afraid we are a one-game team. Gotta leave when we're on top."

They wander back into the crowd and she feels his hand press against her back as they make their way back to Amy. He leans forward and his breath his hot on her neck when he asks, "Are you still thinking of heading back?"

She ignores the rush she feels at his close proximity and answers, "Yeah, why?"

"I'll walk you back. I'm beat."

"You don't have to," she says immediately.

"It's on my way," he returns. "Besides, you shouldn't be walking back alone at this time."

She doesn't argue with him and when they find Amy she tells her that they are heading out. Amy grins devilishly and says, "Alright. Make good choices."

Beca gives her a tight smile and says, "Not funny. Bye Amy."

Amy simply shrugs with her usual wide grin and calls after them, "Bye guys!"

"So, what are these good choices we're supposed to be making?" Jesse asks her, glancing over with a knowing look.

"Seriously, do you want me to push you into oncoming traffic?"

"That's an empty threat," he returns easily. "There're no cars out."

"Hey, what about Benji?" Beca asks suddenly, remembering that Jesse had come with his roommate. "Should we have gotten him?"

Jesse shakes his head. "Nah, I saw him on our way out. He looked to be making a pretty good impression on that girl."

"Who would've known that out of the two of you Benji would be the ladies man," Beca teases. "I think I befriended the wrong roommate."

Jesse answers levelly, "I'm sure tonight's not a closer. I can still slip him your phone number."

"You know, I think I would be too much woman for Benji," Beca returns.

Jesse snorts. "You know, I won't argue that."

They're quiet for a bit a comfortable silence falling between them as they walked. A car passes and Jesse lets out a low whistle before saying, "I was worried there for a moment. Thought you were going to make nice on that threat of pushing me into oncoming traffic."

Beca laughs. "I'm waiting for a speeder. You know, to get the optimal level of damage."

"You are diabolical."

Beca nods and says, "With the laugh to match."

"So, how did you end up here?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, glancing over at him.

"In college, I mean. Seems like you pretty much have what you want to do set. Didn't you think it would make more sense to move to L.A. or something?"

Beca tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, thinking to herself that he had just voiced basically her entire opinion on the situation. "My dad insisted that I do the full undergrad thing first. He's a professor here so I go for free."

"He hoping you'll come to your senses?"

Beca laughs. "Probably. I won't, though. Music is the only thing I've really loved my entire life."

"Me too," he says. She looks over at him and he says, "Movie scores, remember?"

"And why are you here? Shouldn't you be out in stalking John Williams or something?"

"I'm more of a Danny Elfman guy," Jesse returns with a grin. "And my parents had a similar – give the college thing a try – mentality."

"Look at us. Biding our time in undergrad hell."

"It's not that bad," he says with a shrug. "I like the Treblemakers and the people here aren't half bad."

She catches his underlying meaning and smirks. "Is that so?"

"Well, besides you, of course. Because you're awful."

She laughs, stopping in front of her building. Surprisingly, she finds herself wishing they had a few more blocks.

"Well, then thank God we're here," she says. "You won't have to suffer through one more moment with me."

"I'm glad," he returns in like. "I was running out of non-offensive things to say."

Another car passes and someone cat-calls at them through the rolled-down window. She laughs, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Never a non-douchey moment, huh?"

Jesse holds his arms out and says, "Welcome to college."

"Thanks for walking me home," she says, beginning to turn toward the door. "I'm sure about eight robbers were deterred by your menacing presence."

He shrugs with a grin and says, "I do what I can. Good night, Beca."

"Night Jesse."

She heads upstairs and into her dorm room. Her roommate is already asleep so she attempts to get herself ready for bed without turning on the light. Besides one particularly painful collision with her nightstand, Beca gets into bed unscathed. She turns on her side and presses her eyes closed. Her thoughts drift back to the party and Jesse trying to work the keg. Laughing softly to herself she thinks, "What a nerd."

With that thought, she drifts asleep.


	2. What you Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love all those kudos, but you know what I would love even more?? Feedback! Please leave some on this one!

They break up for the usual reasons. He expects too much of her and pushes too hard. Feeling threatened, she closes down and he eventually tires of trying to trying to get through her shell. His words sting when he tells her that he can't do it anymore.

"I thought this meant enough to you to open up a little. I thought I meant enough to you. But I was obviously wrong."

She wants to tell him that he's wrong but the indignant part of her sparks and burns at his tone and she spews back, "And here I was thinking that you wouldn't run away the minute things got hard. Obviously, I was wrong."

He leaves without another word and when the door slams shut she cries. She hates that he can do this to her. She was never a crier before. Now she's like a leaky faucet whenever he leaves.

The next day at rehearsal Abby and Chloe announce the next gig for the Barden Bellas. Abby pauses dramatically before telling them all that the Barden Bellas and Treblemakers would be combining for a gig the next month. The rest of the group titters and preens while Beca stands there and thinks, "Just my fucking luck."

Abby asks her to work on a few song compilations and she welcomes the distraction, already thinking of different mash-ups that she would work out on her computer. She brings them in the next week and unhappily finds the Treblemakers lounging with the Barden Bellas.

"You're okay with this right?" Chloe asks, standing next to Bella as she pulls up the songs on her computer. Chloe glances back at Jesse and says, "I mean, with Jesse being here and all? I know you guys didn't break up too long ago-"

"It's fine," Beca interrupts. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I'm totally fine."

She's not. She's a wreck and she feels it the entire rehearsal. Anytime she is moderately close to him she feels as if her skin is on fire and she has to remind herself to breath. For all intents and purposes, he seems entirely unaffected. While he doesn't talk to her, it's not a pointed avoidance. He naturally turns to one of his group members or jokes with one of the Barden Bellas. He effortlessly ignores her, which somehow makes it hurt more.

Her irritation builds until they are the last two gathering their things and she says sharply, "I see you're doing just fine."

He looks up at her with guarded eyes. "What?"

"You know what I mean."

He frowns and says, "Please Beca, be more cryptic."

"You're acting like nothing happened!" she throws back. "Your acting like the past three months were nothing!"

"How do you want me to act?" he asks, voice rising.

"I don't know," she says, throwing up her arms. "Like you care?"

He shakes his head, jaw tensing. "Like I care? Really, Beca?"

"You know what, never mind," she says, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She turns to leave but he follows her.

"I care, Beca," he says, taking a hold of her arm. When she turns he lets go and his arms hang limply at his sides. "No matter how much you push me away, I will always care about you."

"I have to go," she says, awkwardly adjusting the strap of her messenger bag on her shoulder.

"Okay," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Then go."

She means to move, she really does, but her limbs seem to have a mind of their own. Her feet stay rooted in their place as he holds her gaze. She doesn't know what he's playing at over there. His gaze is challenging. And then she gets it. He doesn't want to be the one to walk away this time. Have it be on her for once. Well fine, she'd give him what she wants. She'll walk away. She'll be the bad guy.

She means to do all of this but then she steps forward and he follows her lead, and before she can fully think through what is happening their mouths meet messily. His arms slide around her waist and she threads her fingers through his hair, drawing his mouth firmer against hers.

His mouth against hers again feels like returning home after a long trip. It's safe and comforting. When she thinks about it, everything about him is.

Someone clears their throat behind them and they pull apart, both breathing heavily. Amy skirts past them with a little smirk and says, "Don't let me interrupt the make out session. Just forgot my sweatshirt."

Beca laughs into her hand while Jesse rubs his chin uncomfortably. It takes Amy longer than anticipated to find her sweatshirt and when she finally finds it she says, "There you are, you nasty bugger."

When she passes the pair she says, "Carry on."

"So," Beca begins, looking at Jesse. "On a scale of one to mortifying…"

"Nearly there," Jesse returns. "So, this means…"

"I will be getting texts from all of them in about two minutes," she says, anxiously putting her hand to her forehead. "And…"

"What do you tell them?" he finishes.

"What are we doing?" she asks helplessly, dropping her hand from her head. "I mean. I know what we were literally doing, but…"

He moves toward her and takes her hands in his. When she doesn't pull away – which he half expects – he tugs her toward him. His arms slide around her waist again and his mouth drops to hers.

"This doesn't change anything," she says before his mouth reaches hers. "There are very real reasons we didn't work, Jesse."

"And there are very real reasons why I don't care anymore," he says.

"Jesse, come on."

"I don't," he says, removing his arms from her waist and reaching up to cup her face. "Because at the end of the day I'd rather have our messed up relationship than not have one at all."

She smirks and says, "You're such a weirdo."

"Yeah, so are you," he murmurs, leaning his head forward. She reaches up and wraps her hands around his wrists as she leans into the kiss.


	3. Stay, Stay, Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New one! Hope you like this!

She's not used to needing someone. Growing up in a broken home, she learned quickly how to fend for herself. It meant shut down and deal with things yourself. Don't depend on others because they won't come through. But Jesse does, time after time. He's there even when she doesn't know she needs him.

Sometimes when she's really keyed up about school or a difficult Bellas rehearsal he'll do this thing where he brushes his thumb over her wrist's pulse point. It's barely noticeable to anyone else but them, but the simple touch is enough to relax her. Aubrey probably has this little maneuver to thank for her having all of her limbs, Jesse talking her down many times when she was on the war path after something the blonde had said.

She doesn't usually go to him herself, though. He's just there – miraculously so. She doesn't realize how much she has grown to depend on him until she has a fight with her dad one night and goes to his dorm room, knocking repeatedly on the door. It's late and Jesse is surprised when he sees her, dark khol smudged beneath her eyes.

"Beca, what's going on?" he asks softly, already pulling her into her bedroom. Benji is fast asleep in his bed and she keeps her voice down in accordance.

"I just needed to see you," she says, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

"Okay," he says, eyes trying to read something from her expressionless face. "Um, do you want to talk?"

She shakes her head.

"Okay, um, how about a movie? We can share headphones so we don't disturb sleeping beauty."

"You know I don't like movies."

"Give a guy a break here," Jesse sighs, mouth pulling into an exasperated grin. "I don't know what you want, Beca."

"I-I don't know," she stammers. She doesn't know why she came here or why him just standing there feels like cool water on a burn. She doesn't know anything.

"Can we just go to bed?" she asks.

"You want to stay?"

She nods and then adds, "If that's okay."

"Yeah, it's fine," he says quickly, moving toward the bed and throwing a few balled up hoodies onto the ground. She points at the one closest to her and asks, "Mind if I borrow that and a pair of boxers to sleep in?"

"Yeah, of course," he says. He moves to his dresser and pulls out a pair of boxers splattered with smiley faces. They are so blatantly him that she can't help but grin just a bit.

"Don't judge me too harshly," he says, handing them to her.

"I promise to save all comments until the morning."

'That is very much appreciated."

She gestures with the clothes that she's about to change and he dutifully turns toward his desk, walking over to it and fiddling around with a few things as she changes. When she's finished she walks over and touches his arm. He turns back and his eyes rove over her form in his clothes. He's much bigger than her and the clothes hang loosely on her frame.

"I was about to say you look good in my clothes, but they look like they're trying to eat you."

She smirks and swats his arm. "Shut up, nerd."

"What? Just pointing out the glaringly obvious," he says, chuckling. She gives him a look and he relents, holding up his hands as he says, "Alright, I cave. Bed?"

She nods and follows him to his bed. This is her first time spending the night and she doesn't exactly know what to do with herself. He scoots in first and then she settles next to him. She turns into him without even meaning to, her chin resting on his chest. Feeling his heat beat, she decides she likes it there.

"Are you going to tell me why you're really here?" he whispers.

"I thought we were sleeping," she mumbles against his chest.

"I require full knowledge as to why a lady is in my bed. House rule."

She waits it out until he shifts under her, coming up on his elbows as he says, "Seriously, Beca, I thought we were past this whole you keeping things from me thing."

"Sshh," she says, pushing him gently back onto the bed. "I'll tell you."

"Okay," he relents, settling back on the mattress.

"My dad and I had a fight," Beca says, propping her chin on his chest. "I went there for dinner and he got into me about choosing a career that will land me on a street corner in a cardboard box."

"I bet you it'll be a really cool cardboard box."

"He just doesn't understand," Beca says, running her fingers over the material of his shirt. "I thought he did but…"

"He'll come around," Jesse tells her, wrapping his arm tighter around her waist.

"Whatever," she says, turning her face so that her cheek rests on his chest. "It doesn't matter. In four years I'm out of here anyway."

He brushes his lips against her hair and repeats, "He'll come around."

She almost believes him, which is saying something because she never believes anyone when they say things like that about her dad. When people tell her things will work out she always thinks they're full of it, but something about the words coming from him give them more weight.

"I like your boxers," she says softly, burrowing herself closer to him. He chuckles a bit and says, "You do?"

"They're very manly. I can just feel the testosterone radiating from them."

"Alright, I think it's time for bed."

"Do you have a matching t-shirt? You know, smiles all around?"

"Good night, Beca."

She grins. "Night Jesse."


	4. Game-cation

"We should play a game," Jesse says, leafing through a pile of CDs. Not missing a beat, Beca continues to sort through her pile and returns, "No."

"Come on, it would make the time pass."

"I'm not playing some stupid game," she says.

"How do you know it'll be stupid?" he asks.

"I'll give you one guess," she returns sarcastically, scanning the tracks on the back of a Wings album. She doesn't see anything good and puts it one top of one of the many organized piles.

"Are you saying I come up with stupid games?"

"You wanted to play I-spy yesterday," she reminds him with the same level of disdain she displayed when he first suggested the game.

"I stand by that recommendation," he says. "I-spy is a great game. It's a classic."

"It's stupid. And should only be played as an absolute last resort on long car rides."

"Last resort?"

"Yeah. No iPod. Broken radio or one of those stretches of road where all you get is static."

"You're underestimating the game. And for the record, that's not what I was going to suggest."

She glances over at him and asks, "What were you going to suggest then?"

"I'm not going to tell you now," he answers. "You've shown where you stand on my game-picking-ability. I don't know if my fragile gaming-ego can take another blow."

She snorts and says, "I think your gaming-ego will be just fine."

"You know, you could choose the game," Jesse suggests with feigned nonchalance.

"Sure, how about a game called silence?"

Jesse considers it for a moment and then says, "I don't think that's a real thing."

"Really? What makes you think that?"

He grins wide, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little. He looks young when he smiles – like a little kid opening presents on Christmas morning. Beca finds it more endearing than she'd ever admit.

Jesse returns to his work and picks up an album, scanning the tracks on the back before putting it in a small pile that she'd noticed he'd begun at the beginning of the shift.

"What're you doing?" she asks, curiosity getting the best of her.

"What am I doing? Well, you see, this is called sorting through CDs. You've actually been doing it for the past three weeks."

She gives him a look and says, "I know that. I mean what are you doing putting all those CDs to the side like that? I can read the titles from here and if that's your idea of sorting, we may need to re-teach you the alphabet."

"It's my gift pile."

"Your gift pile?" she repeats slowly. "Why do you have a gift pile?"

"Beca, think about that question for more than two seconds and you'll have your answer."

She notices the top CD on the pile and says, "What poor guy is getting Paul McCartney's Memory Almost Full? Spoiler alert, they're going to be disappointed when they open it up."

"I think you meant poor woman," Jesse corrects. "It's for my mom. She's a big Paul McCartney fan. And before you say anything further, yes, she is even for this album. And it's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" Beca returns incredulously. "On a scale of bad to awful, that CD is just around your car getting stuck in a blizzard with no heat, food or bottles to pee in."

"Do girls pee in bottles? I don't think that's anatomically possible."

"My point is that that album is awful."

"Yes," Jesse says, nodding slowly. "I got that from the whole broken-down-in-a-blizzard scenario you painted. And might I add, you painted the scene well. Lots of vivid imagery there."

She senses his sarcasm and says, "Fine, I'll back off. But you should look through some of the albums here. There's a pretty good McCartney collection."

"Hold on," Jesse says, "Are you saying that you spy a banging McCartney collection?"

"Stop trying to make I-spy happen," she throws back. "But hypothetically speaking, yes I do. And it is 100 times better than that sorry excuse for an album."

"You have strong feelings on this," he says with a smirk. "Who would've known that subpar McCartney albums would bring out such a fiery side? And by the way, I-spy has already happened. I hear it's very big among the 7-12 year old crowd."

She snorts, shaking her head. "And you honestly still wonder why I don't want to play it?"

"Hey, don't hate on the demographic. Pretty sure Operation is geared toward them, too, and that's a fantastic game." She stares at him blankly and he says, "Please tell me you've played Operation."

She screws her mouth to the side and shakes her head slightly as she gives a no-I-haven't-played shrug.

"This is just unacceptable," Jesse says. He takes a deep breath and says, "I guess a game-cation will have to be added along with the movie-cation. You busy tonight? Because we have our work cut out for ourselves."

"You do realize that you are planning all of these "-cations" without my input."

"Well, yeah. You'd say no otherwise."

She laughs. "At least you're not deluded."

They continue their CD sorting with the usual repartee as Jesse discovers more basic childhood games that she hadn't played. He gets more disturbed by each omission and nearly knocks over an entire sorted stack when she tells him she's never played The Game of Life. That night he shows up at her dorm room with pizza and two board games boxes shoved under his arm.

"You weren't kidding about this," she says, letting him pass.

"I never kid about board games."

They spend the night playing Candyland and Operation, and she can't tell if her having fun is due to the games or just him. He plays the games with attentiveness that she finds largely unnecessary, but she can't help but smile when he tries to remove the Operation dude's spleen, focus entirely on the small little hole as he tries to keep a steady hand. She purposely plays sloppily, enjoying the exasperation he shows every time she presses the tongs to the side of the hole.

"I think it's safe to say you're not going to be a surgeon," he says after she hits the edge again, taking the tongs from her.

She hides her smile and says, "Well, thank you for clearing that up for me."

"Now me, on the other hand." He dips the tongs carefully into the little grove that holds the liver and pulls it out without hitting the sides. "Hands of a surgeon."

"Too bad you lack all the other parts."

He grins. "Don't be hating now just because you have shaky hands."

She licks her lips, giving him a look. "Give me the tongs."

"Fiesty."

"Tongs, Jesse. Now."

He hands them over and she gives him a look before leaning over the most difficult piece and effortlessly removing it. She glances back up at him with a triumphant grin.

"Not bad," he acquiesces. "Could be a fluke, though."

"Fluke my ass. I just liked watching you get upset when I'd hit the edge."

"I did not get upset."

"Yeah, you sort of did," she counters. "You'd get all exasperated and shake your head at my poor motor skills." She laughs at the look he gives her and tacks on, "It was sort of cute."

From the look on his face she can see that he never expected her to equate anything involving him as cute, and she has to admit that she never really thought she would either. Even using the word cute is sort of outside her general lexicon, but she can think of no other way to describe his behavior.

He's looking at her now. He's always looking at her – at the CD shop or when they hang out – but this time it's different. She doesn't quite know where to place the feeling that his eyes thoughtfully studying her face stirs in her, but she would guess somewhere between mild curiosity and discomfort. Despite an overwhelming urge to stand up and begin babbling – anything to break up the moment - she finds herself wanting to know what happens next.

And she knows. She knows when he shifts his weight and when he slowly leans toward her, his hand finding the back of her neck as he guides her mouth to his. She starts to pull back but then his mouth is on hers and she finds her body going completely still. His lips are soft and the scent of skin makes thinking difficult. Thankfully, she doesn't have much need for thought at the moment. It's instinct that makes her lean forward, hand pressing heavily on his leg as she seeks some stability in the racing of her pulse. His other hand finds her waist and she can feel the heat of his palm through the thin material of her shirt. She scoots forward and she's nearly straddling him, all thought and reason completely out of her grasp as he drags his lips down to her neck. She presses even closer and he shifts beneath her, his foot ramming into the game board. It buzzes loudly and the moment is broken. They pull apart and she falls back onto her hands, scooting back.

"Beca-"

"This-this never happened," she says quickly, dragging the back of her hand against her mouth. She stands up shakily and continued with, "This should not have happened. It-"

"Beca, you can't be serious," he says, standing up quickly to follow her.

"This shouldn't have happened. I mean, what are we playing at? This is ridiculous. This-"

He moves forward and takes a hold of her face, covering her mouth with his. She's taken by surprise, but her lips move against his instinctually. He's still kissing her but her mind comes back full-force and she takes a hold of his wrists, pushing him away.

"Beca-"

"We shouldn't be doing this! We…no. We just can't. I can't."

"Can you honestly say that felt wrong?" he demands. "Tell me, can you say that felt wrong or ridiculous?"

She doesn't answer because the answer is no. It felt wonderful and exhilarating. It was something completely crazy and everything that she didn't know how to handle. He moves forward hesitantly, waiting to see if she would step away. When she doesn't he comes closer, placing his hands gently on her waist.

"I'm not good at this," she says, avoiding his gaze. "I…I don't know how to do this."

"Not exactly a Casanova myself," he returns. "Come on, Beca, give this a chance. Give me a chance."

She thinks his words over as they stand there, neither of them speaking. Give him a chance. She's never given anyone a chance. It's always been easier to just push them away and move on. Less pain in the long run. Less chance of disappointment. But then she's back at that kiss and she thinks that there'd be a lot less of that, too. Less movie-cations. Less Jesse.

"Okay," she says, lifting her chin to meet his gaze.

"Okay?"

She nods, reaching up and drawing his face to hers. Against his mouth she murmurs, "Okay."


	5. Jack The Christmas Elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this before Christmas, hence the holiday theme. Think of it as a post-holidays-treat!

It all started one afternoon over a lunch of Chinese food and mountain dew (a strange combination that they both agreed strangely worked) and she revealed a small slice of her largely unhappy childhood.

"My parents had this stupid Christmas tradition where they would hide this little elf toy around the house."

"An elf toy?"

Beca nodded, taking a bite of her mushu pork "Its name was Jack the Elf and they'd put him in all these random places each night to surprise me the next day."

"Some random elf hiding in the house? That sounds disturbing."

She gave him a look and said, "It was cute. And it's not like it was a real elf. It was a toy."

Jesse nodded. "Alright, I see your point."

"Anyway, I know it sounds stupid, but some of my best childhood memories were of finding that elf."

"It's not stupid," Jesse said.

"Yeah, it kind of is," Beca said. "I mean, my best childhood memories are of a toy elf? I feel like somewhere there's a Lifetime movie being penned about exactly this."

Jesse snorted. "You should try to get royalties."

"It was exciting, though. I remember waking up and wondering where I would find it that day. One time my parents forgot to hide it and I cried until my dad snuck it into one of the pantries and pretended that he found it."

"You were, what, like fifteen at the time, right?" Jesse teased.

"Shut up," Beca returned, smiling slightly. "It was a nice tradition. Even kids with messed up childhoods like myself can appreciate a good tradition."

Beca didn't think much of the conversation after they had cleaned up their lunch and continued stacking CDs at the radio station. It wasn't really a groundbreaking one – no big confessions or breakdowns. So, she forgot all about it until one day she went to shelve a few ska records and found a small elf stuffed-animal wedged between The Skatalites and Streetflight Manifesto.

"Jesse," she said loudly, staring at the elf. He came over quickly, his eyes wide with alarm, but she saw him visibly relax when he noticed the elf.

"What's going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Beca said, pointing at the elf. "What's this?"

"Well, that just looks like your friendly CD-store elf."

"And how did it manage to get here?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I have no idea," Jesse said, the picture of innocence.

"So, this has nothing to do with that Jack the Elf story I told you?"

"Jack the Elf," Jesse repeated slowly, rubbing his chin. "No, not ringing any bells. Buddy the Elf, maybe, but Jack…"

"You are so full of it," she said, picking up the Elf and throwing it at him. He laughed, catching it on its rebound off his chest.

"You know, I thought we were past abusing elves!" he called after her as she headed back to the main table.

Over the next week she found the CD-store elf in a variety of different places. The next time it was in a potted plant over by the radio booth. After that it was nestled on the water fountain. Her personal favorite was when it sat between the bars of the railing on the second floor of the station with a little sign that read, "I'm going to jump!".

"Think we should talk him down?" Jesse asked, glancing up at the stuffed elf.

"I don't know, what do you say to a suicidal elf?"

"Well, clearly that it gets better. We have Dobby as proof of that."

She snorted, shaking her head. "You are such a nerd."

The last day before Christmas break she found it sitting on top of the stack of CDs that she was going to be sorting that afternoon. Jesse was seated at one of the other tables already, working on some homework. Luke wasn't always in the studio and Jesse had long ago taken to doing work when Luke wasn't there to either yell at him or demand lunch. She sat opposite him, elbows propped on the table while she played silently with the elf. He looked up at her and smiled when he saw the elf in her hand.

"I see you found our elf friend. Not the best hiding place today, though. The hider must have run out of ideas. Probably because he had such awesome ones before."

"Thank you," she said abruptly, a bit uncomfortable with the admission. She had trouble thanking people, and in this instance she didn't really even know what she was thanking him for. But she felt she had to thank him for something.

"I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did," she said. "And I don't offer thanks often, so…take it."

Jesse smiled slightly. "Alright. You're welcome."

"By the way, if you mention that elf story to anyone else, I will personally make sure your balls never function again."

Jesse stared at her and said, "Alright. I will keep that one to myself."

"I need to get back to work."

When she left that night and went back to her dorm she found the elf tucked in her schoolbag with a note taped to its belly. She pulled off the note and opened it up, smiling softly as she read its message.

Happy Holiday, Beca.

Sincerely,

Jesse & the CD-store Elf


End file.
